


Rocking the Boat

by Karita Wyr (karitawyr)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Friends to Lovers, Housewarming present, Light Bondage, M/M, Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:27:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24402040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karitawyr/pseuds/Karita%20Wyr
Summary: Harry goes to visit Ron at his new home.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ron Weasley
Comments: 10
Kudos: 101





	Rocking the Boat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thepsychicclam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepsychicclam/gifts).



> Written for Merry Smutmus 2004. ( I think it was 2004.)

Harry Potter glanced down at the crinkled parchment in his hand. This had to be the wrong place. Another few meters and he would be standing in the water. He verified the apparition coordinates; this was the correct spot. There was just one problem, no house.

"Unless it's in the loch," he said out loud.

"Got it in one guess," said a disembodied voice in front of him.

"Ron?" Try as he might, Harry could not spot his friend. Not so much as a blade of grass stirred in the summer heat. 

"Expecting someone else?" the voice asked.

Harry peered into the foliage near the water's edge. "I thought maybe Voldemort's ghost had decided to take up water skiing. Where are you?" he called back.

"Come on, Harry. Look closer. You'll see."

This was not the kind of game Harry wanted to play, but to please Ron he went along anyway. He concentrated on the area Ron's voice originated from, seeing nothing but the warm yellow light of the evening shimmering on the water. After a moment, he noticed a distortion in the center of his vision, as if that bit of space was out of sync with its surroundings. He continued to focus on the distortion, peeling the layers of the illusion away like cling film. With the removal of each successive layer more and more of Ron's new home was revealed until the image was clear, and he saw his red-headed friend waving to him energetically from the bow of a good-sized white and green boat.

"Wow," Harry whispered in awe. A houseboat was certainly not what he had expected when Ron invited him over to see his new place. "This is brilliant, Ron."

Ron grinned as he walked down the gangplank, the fading sun causing his hair to glow like banked fire. "I know. Mum hates it though. She thinks the location is too isolated and living on a boat is unsafe, like I'm going to drown in my own bed or something. And the worst bit according to her is that there's no floo connection to the Burrow."

"I'd say that's the best part," Harry said giving Ron a playful shove. He knew how much Ron loved his family, but after living at home for the last year Ron was probably more than ready for a little privacy.

"Yeah, but I reckon we ought not tell her that," Ron said. 

"And the spell shielding this location? Is that to keep the over-protective away as well?" Harry teased.

"Nah, Mum can see her way around it after a bit of work, but it keeps the Muggles away and anyone else who doesn't look too closely. It's a variation of a notice-me-not spell. Professor Lupin taught it to me. Said every single young man deserves his privacy."

"Right smart man that Remus," Harry said as they walked up the gangplank together. While Harry had initially enjoyed living in the boisterous Gryffindor dorms, as he grew older he discovered the appeal of privacy and the necessity of silencing spells.

"Definitely," Ron agreed. He gave Harry a quick hug and then bowed with a flourish. "Welcome aboard the _Six of Seven_. Come have a look around."

A set of narrow stairs descended into the lounge. It was a mess, yet to Harry it felt just like a Weasley home should, loved and lived-in. At least a dozen family photos were tacked up around the cabin. Half-finished Ministry projects were strewn over a long worktable on one side, while open boxes of clothes, mismatched dishes, and Chudley Cannons paraphernalia covered most of the banquette on the other. 

The far end of the cabin was dominated by a dark mahogany bar. Harry vaulted over it to land gracefully on the other side. Slapping his palms against the polished wood, he asked, "So, what'll you have?"

Ron strolled over and leaned against the brass rail. "There is a bottle of some Muggle stuff Fred and George brought by that I have been wanting to try."

It took a few minutes to locate where the twins had stashed the bottle. Harry finally found a bottle of single malt scotch covered in rags in a wash bucket beneath the sink. Apparently the Weasley twins had thought their parents might disapprove of their gift. Harry poured them each a generous measure. Raising his glass in toast, he said, "To your new home."

"I will most definitely drink to that." Ron swirled the amber liquid in his glass before taking a large gulp. He quickly turned away. When he faced Harry again his nose was scrunched up and his face was red. Tears were gathering in his eyes, preparing to roll down his cheeks, but he mustered a watery smile. "Potent stuff."

After a few several smaller sips, Harry said, "I don't think I like it."

Ron's glass was on its way to his mouth again. He set it down on the bar with a thunk. "It reminds me of the time Fred dared George and me to drink perfume."

"You were supposed to sip it."

"The perfume?" Ron asked, the left corner of his mouth twitching up into an adorable Weasley smirk, the one that only Percy seemed to have missed the gene for.

"The scotch, you prat." Harry rolled his eyes. He took Ron's glass from his unresisting fingers and turned to the sink to wash it. Looking over his shoulder, he asked, "You actually drank perfume?"

"Only a little." Ron said. Unspoken was the assertion that drinking a little perfume was not as ridiculous a stunt as drinking a lot of perfume.

Harry didn't go for it. "You're a nutter."

Ron chuckled. "Yeah, I am. And you are my best friend. That makes you a nutter once removed."

Harry leaned over the bar and shoved the dish rag down Ron's shirtfront. The retaliatory strike was equally messy.

Some time later they both had glasses of more pleasant tasting butterbeer in their hands. Their t-shirts and jeans were rather wet, as was their hair, yet neither seemed to mind.

Harry sprawled on the cushioned banquette and closed his eyes, concentrating on the waves lapping against the hull. The last rays of the sun were disappearing beyond the horizon and the gentle rocking of the boat had become more noticeable. He felt relaxed and happy, glad to be spending this time alone with his friend. They hadn't spent that much time together during this first hectic year after completing their schooling. He intended to rectify that. 

"How did you wind up with a boat?" he asked.

"Years ago she used to take tourists out on short sight-seeing cruises, but she fell into disrepair. Her owners were asking very little for her." Ron pulled his wand from his back pocket and gave it a baton-like twirl. "I am sure they would be surprised how easy I found it to fix her up. This used to be the lower observation cabin. It was full of blue plastic chairs bolted to the floor. There was chewing gum all over the undersides. The upper cabin was worse."

Harry's eyes popped open. He wrinkled his nose at the thought of even poorer decorating sensibilities than his own. "Worse?"

"I almost went blind. The chairs were orange and pink and the gum was a sickly green. At least, I hope it was gum." Ron waved his hand at the ceiling. "My bedroom and the guest room are up there now. Want me to show you where you'll be staying?"

Harry stretched and sat up. "Not right now, but I do have something to show you, a new spell. Want to see?" he asked casually.

"Sure," Ron replied to the space where Harry had been sitting. His friend had already darted out on deck. Ron levitated their glasses to the sink, then settled more comfortably in his chair to wait, long legs stretched out in front of him.

Towards the end of their time together at Hogwarts the warm comfortable feeling Harry had for Ron was joined by an "I want to push him against a wall and kiss him until he can't remember his own name" feeling. Every time Ron smiled both these feelings grew. Harry had come up with a plan, a sneak attack, to find out if Ron might feel something similar. If Ron didn't react favorably the whole thing could be written off as a prank.

He returned shortly with a large coil of rope that he dropped at Ron's feet. Aiming his wand at the rope, he bellowed, _"Funis serpentia_!"

At these words the rope coiled up like a rattlesnake preparing to strike. One frayed end acted as the head weaving a mesmerizing pattern in front of Ron.

"Very clever, Harry," Ron said in a mocking tone that sounded much too much like Draco Malfoy, "but what's the point? It's not a real snake."

"I'll show you the point," Harry promised. He hissed a few directions in Parseltongue. The rope snake's head turned his direction and nodded before swiftly winding its body around Ron's midsection, securing Ron to the chair.

Ron squirmed in his bonds, but the rope would not yield. Even rocking the chair back and forth produced no discernible results. He was immobilized from shoulders to waist. "What you do that for?" Ron asked. 

From experience Harry knew Ron's glare was meant to express indignation, but it looked more like poorly masked confusion to him. "That's for the body bind you put me in at the end of out last term. I've been waiting to do this ever since I saw the rope up on deck when I came aboard." 

Harry walked slowly around his captive, admiring his handwork. Ron's t-shirt had ridden up during his struggles with the rope. Between the coils around Ron's stomach Harry could see flashes of pink skin, skin that he wanted to touch. Unfortunately, it wasn't the time, not yet. Hopefully soon.

Face flushed from his exertions, Ron was breathing heavy, chest heaving as much as the rope would allow. Altogether, it was a pretty good look on him, Harry thought.

"You know that body bind wasn't meant for you. I was aiming for Seamus," Ron explained with a hint of desperation. 

"That doesn't matter; you hit me with it. And if I recall correctly, despite your mistake, you proceeded to sit on me." Harry straddled Ron's legs and settled in his lap, adding a wiggle for good measure.

"Are we even yet?" Ron asked, eyes squeezed shut. He appeared to be trying to calm his ragged breathing. Trying and failing.

"Not by a long shot." Harry pulled Ron's shirt away from his neck, exposing a bit of shoulder. He gave Ron a quick bite, not hard enough to break the skin, but it would leave a mark. "That's for tickling me after you sat on me."

Certainly, Harry had expected a reaction, but what happened next exceeded all but his wildest hopes. While he sat in Ron's lap, mentally congratulating himself for exacting his revenge, he felt something nudging his inner thigh.

"Oh, God. Ignore that, Harry, please." Ron tried to buck Harry off his lap which only served to make his embarrassing reaction more obvious, much to Harry's delight.

"Why should I ignore it?" Harry asked. His fingers slipped beneath the rope to stroke the soft tantalizing skin of Ron's stomach. His mouth was very near Ron's ear, so he nibbled the lobe, worrying the small bit of flesh with his teeth.

Ron moaned. The sound came from deep in his throat. It was a sound Harry had never heard before, one he wanted to hear again.

"You liked that." Harry stated. 

Ron nodded briefly.

"I could do it again," Harry offered. He held his breath and waited, silently praying that Ron wouldn't suddenly decide that this was all a mistake and throw him overboard into the dark water of the loch.

Letting his eyes flutter open briefly, Ron whispered, "Yes, do it, please."

Harry obliged, adding a kiss behind Ron's ear. That kiss was followed by a string of kisses that followed the line of Ron's jaw. Threading his fingers through Ron's fiery hair, Harry licked along Ron's lips before pressing his lips against them. Ron tasted like butterbeer and something else, something sweet and intoxicating. Whether it was Ron's own flavor or the remains of the scotch, Harry didn't know, but he was determined to make every effort to find out.

His tongue teased along Ron's, sliding fleetingly against it, then darting away to explore the deeper recesses of Ron's mouth. Harry felt giddy. This was amazing, to be kissing Ron, to have Ron wanting to be kissed.

Just then, Ron whimpered, and Harry reluctantly pulled away. Doubt returned. He dropped his gaze to the floor. He saw Ron's arm pressed to his side, fingers flexing, clenching into a fist then opening up again. What had he done? He'd tied his friend to a chair. It was wrong and a little weird. When had he thought this was a good idea?

"I should let you go," Harry said, unable to look up at his friend. He felt simply awful. 

"You darned well better, because I have to touch you," Ron said voice cracking with need.

Without a thought, Harry hissed a short order to the rope snake. It unwound from Ron's body and fell to the floor in an inanimate heap. Ron didn't waste an instant. As soon as his hands were free, he grabbed Harry's ass and pulled him closer. A little squirming and they found the correct angle for their cloth covered erections to rub together.

Harry clutched at Ron's shoulders, fingers pressing into the bite mark he had placed there. Ron let out a low growl and attacked Harry's mouth with his own. No longer was the kiss a simple, yet thorough, exploration. It was a siege, a breaking down the outer walls and plundering the village siege. Harry swayed in Ron's arms. Ron held him steady, hands on Harry's slim hips.

When they pulled apart, Harry took several deep breaths and just stared at Ron, taking note of Ron's smug expression. Something had to be done about that. Harry swooped in for one more clinging kiss, then dropped to his knees in front of the chair and parted Ron's thighs.

Running his thumbs along the inseam of Ron's jeans, Harry slid his hands upwards. At the juncture of Ron's thighs, he cupped Ron's hardness with one hand while the other deftly popped the metal snap on his jeans. Ron let out a gasp as the metallic sound of a zipper swiftly being lowered ripped through the silence.

Harry reached into Ron's pants and withdrew Ron's cock, pushing the material out of the way. Wrapping his hand around the base, he squeezed gently, matching the rhythm of the pulse throbbing along the length.

With the bite mark of his neck turning a becoming shade of purple and his cock resting snugly in another man's hand, Ron no longer looked smug. Debauched and on the way to ravished was more like it.

Harry lowered his head to lick the head of Ron's cock. He found that he enjoyed the taste and texture and continued to lap at it like he would a particularly luscious ice cream cone that he was afraid would melt before he could have as much of it as he wanted.

Ron's trembling hands nudged Harry off his cock. "Have you done this before?" Ron asked in a hushed voice.

"I've had it done to me. Am I doing something wrong? Don't you like it?" Harry asked anxiously. He couldn't be that far off the mark; he knew he liked having it done to him.

Ron tried to reassure Harry. "I do like it. In fact, it's bloody brilliant. It's just that, well, I liked the biting bit before, but I wanted to make sure you know that it's not a good idea to use your teeth down there." Considering how much they'd already done and how flushed his skin already was, Ron still managed to blush a deeper shade of pink.

"Are you certain?" Harry asked mischievously. He sucked the head of Ron's cock into his mouth, swirled his tongue around the ridge, then pressed it firmly against the underside. That was followed by the tiniest press of teeth to the sensitive flesh. Ron let out a howl that Harry would later insist rocked the boat. Harry smiled around his mouthful and repeated the maneuver.

Little by little, Harry worked Ron's cock into his mouth. It would take a good deal of practice before he became really skilled at fellatio, but he was reasonably sure Ron wouldn't mind being his test subject.

In response to Harry's unspoken thoughts, Ron placed on hand around the back of Harry's neck. The soft pads of Ron's fingers tickled the fine hairs there. The pressure of the resting hand was light; it was not intended to force Harry to continue. It was intended to persuade him to continue.

The unconsciously teasing touches combined with Ron's throaty moans and the feel of hard cock sliding in and out of his mouth increased Harry's arousal exponentially. He was surprised the zipper on his jeans was standing up to the stress.

Suddenly, Ron released Harry's head. Harry drew back, placing a feather light kiss to the tip of Ron's cock. He licked his lips and regarded Ron through lowered lashes, green eyes bright with anticipation.

"Take off your clothes and get back up here," Ron commanded with a leer.

If there were speed records for undressing, Harry shattered them. Trainers and socks were yanked off and tossed carelessly aside. One sock landed on the bar, dangled over the edge momentarily, then fell forgotten to the floor. The jeans required more finesse than brute strength to remove, but Harry managed to get them off in a hurry without falling on his face, which he considered a triumph.

He stood proudly before Ron, naked from the waist down. There was heat in Ron's gaze as he looked his fill. Harry felt himself grow harder under the visual caress. Finally, Ron spoke. "Nice shirt, mate."

The chair Ron was sprawled upon almost became the chair Ron was sitting on the floor looking up at when Harry launched himself at his friend. They grappled for about a minute, but as soon as Ron wrapped a hand around both their cocks and began stroking them together the skirmish was over. Harry placed one hand over Ron's and threw his head back in silent surrender.

Nothing had ever felt this good to Harry; it was like flying, only he was soaring higher than he ever had on his broom. This, being with Ron, was probably the single greatest sensation he had ever had and would remain so. That is, until they did it again.

For a time, their movements were leisurely, the kisses sweet. Soon, however, the pace increased and the kisses became more frantic, until Harry dropped his head to Ron's shoulder, murmuring one word over and over, "Please."

Ron found his release first, spurting his seed over their joined hands and shouting Harry's name. Continuing with slower strokes, he brought Harry to the edge of orgasm before flinging him over that edge by nipping at Harry's exposed neck. They kissed again, bodies pressed tightly together, tongues gliding sinuously against each other, heat radiating around them. When they broke from the kiss they were both grinning like madmen.

Idly running his hands up and down Harry's back under the t-shirt Ron said, "Wow. That was some kind of fantastic housewarming gift."

Harry tilted his head to the side in beguiling, albeit simulated, bewilderment. "Oh, you didn't realize that was just the gift for this room. There's one for each of the other rooms as well."

"And the deck?" Ron asked hopefully.

"Certainly. And I think the bar is big enough to be considered a separate room, don't you?" Harry carefully stood and took Ron's hand, helping him up.

"You know what, Harry?" Ron asked.

"What?"

"You're a nutter," Ron said, affection evident in the lowered timbre of his voice.

"I know," Harry replied. "Your bedroom or the wheelhouse first?"

* THE END *


End file.
